Page 123 of Rest In Pink

I held up the three red notes. then dropped them. I had the money, Vince was coming, and I had a pink Beretta, I told myself. I wasfine.

He gestured with the gun for me to go farther into the room. I backed up.

“Open the case. Show me.”

I crouched down—smaller target—and popped the locks on the case and opened it and turned it around so he could see it was full of money. “Do you want me to count it?”

He took an empty backpack off his shoulder and threw it across the room to me.

“Take the packs out, two at a time, and put them in there,” he said. “Slowly so I can count them.”

I took the first two packs of money out, and put them in the pack, and kept going until the bag was empty. Then I turned the case upside down to show him.

“Now you leave,” I said.

“Bring it to me,” he said, grinning.

Fuck you,I thought and threw the pack toward him. It landed short.

“You don’t like me much, do you, Lizzie?” he said.

“I hate you.”

He sighed. “Then I guess you’re not interested in going to Mexico with me. Too bad. We woulda had a good time.” He took his other hand out of his pocket and held up his phone and hit a button on it.

Nothing happened, of course, except he laughed. “Now you’re the last of the Blues.”

The Blue House. He’d just blown the Blue House. I knew it as soon as he laughed, and then I heard more sirens far away and thought,they’ll have gotten out, they’ll all have gotten out,but I should have gotten them out, I’d been so focused on this, I should have—

He lifted the gun and said, “Goodbye, Lizzie Blue.”

Chapter Sixty

I paused just inside the loading bay and put the rifle to my shoulder, turning on the mag light under the barrel and using the scope to scan the room. The light flashed on something on the floor to the right. I lowered the weapon and went that way.

A shiny button that I recognized. I’d pushed it through its buttonhole often in the past six weeks.

I went through. I turned off the light, knowing what I was looking for. I moved fast, Mickey wouldn’t dawdle. He’d broken the deal by bombing Day’s and MB’s houses, and I feared there was worse ahead. Another button in my pocket and left. Into a room. I knew as soon as I came in that it was empty of people. But I heard voices on the far side, echoing out of a doorway. Liz and Mickey.

I got to the edge of the door, put the butt of the rifle to my shoulder, curled my finger over the trigger and stepped into the doorway.

Mickey Pitts was in front of me, in my sights, and behind him, directly in the line of fire, was Liz.

Chapter Sixty-One

Vince came through the door behind Mickey with the rifle to his shoulder, shouting “No!” and Mickey spun about to face him and fired, and Vince staggered back, and I pulled out the Beretta and shot Mickey three times in the back.

I would have shot him more but he fell over.

Despite being shot, Vince came forward and kicked the gun away. Calm as always. And evidently not shot, although I would have sworn he’d been hit.

I looked down at Mickey, a human being I’d just put three bullets into.

He looked up at me and said, “A fucking Blue,” and his eyes closed in pain.

Then I looked at Vince, not sure what was coming next.

Chapter Sixty-Two